


Creeping Things

by FHC_Lynn



Series: Broken Windows [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FHC_Lynn/pseuds/FHC_Lynn
Summary: When all the world's a tomb, does anything truly die a final death?





	1. Footsteps In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Written for the [Dreamwidth tf_rare_pairing community](http://tf-rare-pairing.dreamwidth.org/)’s Fall 2016 Challenge  
> Prompt: superstitions

The cityscape poked twisted, half melted spires over the crumbling infrastructure. The stars stretched overhead. A nebula had just begun to peek over the western horizon. Once upon a time, Kup swore, Cybertron had orbited a star. Free warmth and power had beamed down on it. The world had not relied on the fading heat of Cybertron’s cooling core. Kup also said Cybertronians had knocked the planet out of its orbit themselves to escape their greatest enemy. Cliffjumper listened to the old mech’s stories, but privately he knew better.

His race was its own worst enemy. There was no escaping themselves.

Looking both ways down the road, Cliffjumper saw nothing larger than a dull, battered volt cat moving in the wreckage outside. Steps rustled up behind him. Cliffjumper turned away from the tiny, distant mechanimal to look at his traveling partner.

“You’re back? You sneak in a back way? Should be more careful, you know.”

“And you shouldn’t look out there so hard, Cliff,” Sideswipe chuckled.

“We can’t just roll out without looking around. Just in case there’s Decepticons.”

“Not here. Just us and the siphons out here, you know. And the ‘Cons are too smart to come where siphons are.”

“Oh, Well’s Light. You don’t believe in that rust scale, do you?” Cliffjumper laughed. “If we really came back from death as siphoning monsters, none of us would be here. How many have died? Just in this war, mind.”

Shutting off his dimmed biolights, he stepped outside, into the starshine. He looked back when Sideswipe didn’t follow. For comfort, they had kept all their lights on, dimly, while inside the building. Sideswipe had shut his off, but his optics spat blue fire in the dark. A shiver ran down Cliffjumper’s struts.

“Stop playing, Sideswipe. Let’s go.” Cliffjumper heard hollow steps back, and watched Sideswipe’s optics dim.

“Naw, mech. No one’s playing. Siphons don’t happen for just _any_ death. Just when you die betrayed. When you get to stare ‘em in the face while the world fades and you know who did it. You come back looking for them. That’s all that frees siphons, Cliff. I mean, take Praxus here. They gotta have looked up. Knowing. Watching them fly overhead…”

“We didn’t kill ‘em.”

“No? We sure didn’t save ‘em, did we? Maybe you didn’t hear, but the pipeline thinks maybe we let Praxus burn. Makes us just as guilty as the other side, doesn’t it?” Sideswipe closed his optics.

At least Cliffjumper hoped he did. Shuddering, he looked back to see if the scraggly volt cat was still on the street with him.

“C’mon, Sides. This ain’t the time for history or playing around. Let’s get moving. Sides? Sides!” Cliffjumper whirled around, but the darker lump of Sideswipe didn’t stand inside any more. No faint biolights, no whispery gleam of refracted starlight. “Sides!”

“Hey, hey!” Sideswipe hissed behind him. “Quit screaming before you attract the ‘Cons, mech. What’s wrong with you?”

Cliffjumper spun around, one fist already sailing for Sideswipe’s gut. “The frag is wrong with you?”

“Whoa! The Pit, mech! We ain’t got time for a fight!”

“You’re the one screwing around! How the frag you get out here?” Cliffjumper demanded.

“Scouting ahead is _not_ screwing around! I told you I was headed out, remember?”

“What?” Cliffjumper whispered.

“I told you I was going to poke around some. See if I could find a clear path, before I came back.”

“You did. Didn’t you.” Cliffjumper heard steps behind him. Sideswipe must have heard them too, because he looked up. Cliffjumper watched his optics widen and flare.

Like blue fire.


	2. Things That Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Written for the [Dreamwidth tf_rare_pairing community](http://tf-rare-pairing.dreamwidth.org/)’s Fall 2016 Challenge  
> Prompt: spooky old house

“I cannot believe you set up shop here, mech. This whole thing’s gonna come down on you.”

Swindle smirked and looked over his shoulder at the Autobot outside the hole in the wall. Right on time, after Brawl’s staticky comm. Had to make that mech get someone to look at that, later. Now that they had some bargaining fuel. “Wouldn’t keep my hand there, Sideswipe. The doorway ain’t _that_ sturdy, you know. Besides. The goods are all in here where it’s warm.”

“Warm? In this drifty wreck? This high off the ground level? This ain’t even a _door_.” Sideswipe’s grinned broadened, but he stepped over what passed for a threshold. “Right, so you got the goods I want?”

“This was the height of luxury in its day. You just ask that delicate blue friend of yours.”

“Blurr? Think he spent more time in track bars,” Sideswipe snorted.

 

“No, that Towers lordling, you stripped bolt. This is what’s left of his home.” Swindle smirked. Gesturing for Sideswipe to follow him, he sauntered through another broken wall. This wasn’t his _usual_ shop front. But when Sideswipe had appeared out of the war’s fog to contact him, Swindle hadn’t wanted to let the Autobot army know where to find his real warehouse.

“Wow. The Towers? You got some bolts, don’t you?” Sideswipe whistled and followed after him.

“Wha’cha mean? Ain’t nobody here no more.”

“Everyone’s here, mech. They didn’t leave.” Chortling, the big mech looked around. “It’s their home. And it’s not like anywhere else is inviting.”

Swindle glanced back at him, puzzled. “Wow. Didn’t know you were into that kind of crazy.”

“Ain’t crazy, Swindle. Think about it. They never got sent back to the Well. None of ‘em did, in your side’s great burn off. Here, Praxus -- or anywhere else. I mean, I know you had to move whatever body bits were just lying around. You didn’t feel anything? Like you were trespassing? I mean, we’re far enough inside, that can’t be wind, right?” Sideswipe’s grin flashed clean, bright denta. “And you’re flashing Unicron’s mask at them. Gotta think, they might not want you in their house.”

“It’s an estate building. And the dead are gone, mech,” Swindle snapped, turning to face his customer. He stopped, balled his fists, and propped them on his hips to glare at Sideswipe. “You want your rusted supplies or not? You got my payment? ‘Cause I’m getting tired of seeing you already.”

“Sure, I got it. We hid it right where you said to. Waved at Brawl on my way up. Didn’t he comm you? C’mon, I need those parts, and I want to get back to Sunstreaker before he has a fit.”

“You’re the one holding us up with slag stories.” Swindle huffed. Shaking himself, he made the last turn to the small room he’d left the part in. He cast Sideswipe a sidelong look when the mech stopped at the broken door and looked inside, but Swindle walked on in. At the rusted metal desk, he dragged open the drawer he had hidden the part in. Its squeal reverberated in the tiny room, grating on his senses.

Damn Sideswipe. His crazy talk was making Swindle paranoid. Stupid. The dead were just dead. The crate inside wasn’t large. Only the length of his forearm, cubed. Difficult for a mech his size to subspace, but Sideswipe’s powerhouse could handle it. Lugging it back, he shoved the thing into Sideswipe’s arms. “There. Go on now.”

“Ain’t gonna close the drawer?”

“What?”

“The desk. You opened it.” Sideswipe cocked his head, optics bright.

Swindle might have thought he was being teased somehow, but Sideswipe wasn’t smiling. He glanced back at the desk, grunting. “No one’s here to care, mech. Been over this.”

He turned to look back at Sideswipe, except the mech wasn’t there. The corridor vibrated with steps when Swindle lurched out of the room. Sideswipe wasn’t out there, but the old, bombed out building creaked and swayed. Shaking, he pinged Brawl’s frequency.

He got nothing but static.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, the real question is whether Sideswipe was actually there for either of these...


End file.
